Array ( [sid] => 157885 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Toxic Garden [time] => 2010-03-03 21:24:07 [hometext] => Projecting your insecurity onto others, especially friends, is like poisoning them... [bodytext] => I’ve got a toxic garden
Growing in my backyard
All my flowers made of poison,
But friendship calls down my guard.

To lay asleep in a patch of daises
Awaken to petals dripping cyanide
It’s like they plot to kill me
Behind their lures they hide.

They grow too tall, I think,
I drown in the bragging weeds
I give them more than plenty
But still they cry of needs.

I dare not sleep now,
Vines around my neck creeping
A slow strangle-me-silent
So they won’t hear me weeping

For the flowers they could have been
The roses they were inside
I told them every day they were,
But didn't listen or thought I lied.

I need not have passed under
To feed their grassy bed
If they had accepted what they were,
Now I would not be dead. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 176 [topic] => 16 [informant] => Chamaron [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FriendshipPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Toxic Garden


Toxic Garden
Date: Wednesday, 3rd March 2010 @ 09:24:07 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Chamaron
I’ve got a toxic garden
Growing in my backyard
All my flowers made of poison,
But friendship calls down my guard.

To lay asleep in a patch of daises
Awaken to petals dripping cyanide
It’s like they plot to kill me
Behind their lures they hide.

They grow too tall, I think,
I drown in the bragging weeds
I give them more than plenty
But still they cry of needs.

I dare not sleep now,
Vines around my neck creeping
A slow strangle-me-silent
So they won’t hear me weeping

For the flowers they could have been
The roses they were inside
I told them every day they were,
But didn't listen or thought I lied.

I need not have passed under
To feed their grassy bed
If they had accepted what they were,
Now I would not be dead.

This poem is Copyright © Chamaron


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